


I'm With You

by writtensword



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort, dealing with canon trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-08-15 10:40:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8053171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writtensword/pseuds/writtensword
Summary: Cat has been through a lot in season one of Supergirl and it's all finally catching up.





	I'm With You

Cat steps out onto her office balcony and into a cool evening breeze that caresses her tired cheeks and causes her eyes to close in a brief moment of relief. Her fingers tighten around her glass of whiskey and she takes a deep breath as the door shuts quietly behind her.

Her shoulders ache from the world that she carries, but she sees no chance to set down her burdens when it is so essential that she keeps moving. Even one minute of respite might just allow for everything that has happened to catch up with her. Thoughts and images of the past weeks loom dark and violent on the horizon like a massive sandstorm that threatens to devour her empire. All she wants to do is lie down and surrender, but the fear that she might never get up again keeps her marching through her days, face set, fists clenched, legs growing heavier with every step she takes.

The city below her hums with the remnants of evening traffic. People are returning home to their loved ones, continuing their lives after the world almost ended. Cat wonders if any of them truly understand how close they have all come to dying only a week ago, and something tells her that in this particular case the public does not want to know the truth.

They look to her and CatCo for guidance, to provide answers and to lead and reassure when government officials only placate and deflect. But although Cat lives on hope more than on anything else these days she has grown weary of having to always be strong.

The world is full of aliens and disgruntled meta-human ex-employees who want to kill her. She has been literally flung from the top of her building, _her castle_ , falling for ages into a sure death, only to be caught at the very last minute as a reminder of her mortality, a sobering demonstration of human fragility.

Not only that, she has cowered in the corner of a plummeting elevator, muscles tensed as she waited for the impact that would shatter her bones but which never came. She has almost lost her youngest son to a bomb attack, and she has been cuffed to a park bench, put on display for all to see and threatened with a violent death in bright sunlight. And when the entire population of the city was turned into mindless automatons it was Cat who had to see reason when even the city’s own superhero was ready to commit a foolish act of despair.

And after every single one of those harrowing experiences Cat has gotten up and continued to do her job with squared shoulders and a tightened jaw, because she cannot afford to feel traumatised when even Supergirl looks to her for guidance.

But Cat is tired.

She hides it from Carter, from her employees, from the world, but the terror she felt every time she faced off with death has accumulated and now runs through her veins like liquid ice.

Many of the things she has seen cannot be revealed to the public, because that would endanger not only the citizens of National City, but all of Earth. Cat knows this, even without the lengthy debriefing and non-disclosure papers she had to sign at the DEO. It is better for people to remain oblivious to the true powers of their unfriendly alien visitors and the technology that can enslave an entire planet and kill all humans at the press of a button. For the first time in her career the journalist in her steps aside and she falls into the world of secrecy for the greater good.

She relies on CatCo’s in-depth coverage of Supergirl saving the day to provide the masses with a feeling of safety, even if it is a false one. She holds on to the secrets and carries them with her in nightmares and hidden anxiety flare-ups that she tries to soothe with whiskey and Lexapro. She pretends that the world is safe, and above all else she pretends that she herself is _fine._

The bringer of truth has become the distributor of lies.

She takes a sip of her drink and her nostrils flare as the alcohol burns down her throat. When her eyes grow moist Cat tells herself it is just the wind, and if her breath is a bit more shallow and her chest feels like it might burst into a thousand pieces it is just because the incompetence of her staff has reached a whole new level today.

Her arm wraps around her middle and her mouth parts in a shuddered breath as she looks up at the darkening sky.

The things is, Cat _does_ believe in Supergirl to keep them all safe. If there is one thing that Cat has learned in the months since National City got its very own superhero, it is that hope is stronger than fear. Supergirl has changed her, has turned her from a cynical, disillusioned workaholic into a woman who gazes at the stars in wonder, who feels a warm flutter in her belly at the sound of a cape in the wind and who, for the first time in decades, has allowed someone other than her sons into her heart. And that is what terrifies Cat above all else.

Because suddenly Cat finds her walls weakening, and years worth of steadfast denial and hardness shatter at the slightest smile on that beautiful face. She feels uprooted, exposed and unprepared for the backlash of all the trauma that has piled up in the past year, unacknowledged, because for the first time in her life Cat actually longs to let herself fall and be caught, longs to be wrapped in strong arms and assured that everything will be alright.

But how can she?

She does not wish to burden the young hero with her sudden midlifecrisis crush. She feels old and embarrassed about how Supergirl makes her feel, and there is a part of her that still thinks she is undeserving of respite, of kindness, _of love_. She would rather continue to sit through these lonely nights of quiet terror, as exhausting as they may be, than allow Supergirl to worry about her.

“Ms. Grant, is everything alright?”

The unexpected words hit Cat like a storm of a thousand tiny needles. There are tears clinging to her eyelashes now, and she wipes at them, annoyed that she cannot seem to get herself back under control. Her arm tightens around her waist and she swallows hard against the lump in her throat before she speaks, her voice remaining deceptively steady, “you are no longer my assistant, Kiera. There is no need for you to still follow me around.”

She throws back the remaining whiskey in one large gulp and sets down the glass, welcoming the path of fire the alcohol leaves inside of her that pushes back the emotions that threaten to spill from her bones. City lights blur before her and she stares into the night, seeing nothing.

“I’m not here as your assistant, Ms. Grant.” Kara pauses, and Cat imagines her standing behind her with her hands wringing and eyebrows moving as she searches for the courage to speak her mind. “I’m here as your… _friend_.”

Cat has to close her eyes at the wave of longing that rushes through her. She fights the urge to sway backwards, to turn around and allow herself to drown in Kara’s compassion.

“Please...,” she whispers, and now her voice cracks, because she is unsure what she is even asking. Everything in her rational mind screams to push Kara away, to verbally lash out and make her leave so that Cat can have her inevitable breakdown in peace. Her heart, however, twists and reaches out to the woman behind her, insisting to no longer be ignored, and pulling at the restraints that have kept it shackled for so long.

“Cat,” Kara says then from very nearby and Cat clenches her fists so tightly that her arms are trembling, because she is terrified of moving, terrified of letting go when she knows that as soon as Kara reaches for her whatever is left of her defences will instantly crumble.

The first touch comes from warm fingers sliding over her fist, a thumb rubbing soothingly over her knuckles and Cat releases a shuddered gasp. She blinks her eyes open to look down at where Kara tenderly coaxes her hand to relax in order to grab it with her own and slowly pull Cat towards her.

Cat stiffens, a last feeble attempt to keep Kara at bay, but when strong arms close around her and Kara softly speaks against her hair, “I’ve got you, you’re safe,” Cat finally allows herself to fall.

The sobs come before she can reign them in, but Kara catches them, holds her tightly while rubbing circles over her back and nuzzling her temple so sweetly that Cat wants to laugh at how ridiculously right it all feels.

 _Supergirl to the rescue,_ her snarky mind quickly supplies, but then suddenly all the accumulated terrors bubble forth and wash over her in dark waves as her body shakes and her fingers dig desperately into smooth muscle.

The sensation of death clawing at the back of her neck returns in full force. She sees the memory of herself plummeting down an elevator shaft and down the side of her building, and then up, up, up into the vastness of space where she will drift into nothingness. The latter is not a memory of her own, but the pain is sharp nonetheless when Cat realises that not only has she escaped death several times herself, she has also come very close to losing Supergirl, to losing _Kara_. It is something she has tried to avoid thinking about in the days since Kara’s stupidly selfless act, because admitting how devastating such a loss would be would destroy the safety of the idea that this feeling--this swirling, winding entity around her heart--is nothing more than a crush.

Cat is still shaking, cold sweat dampening the thin fabric of her blouse and the palms of her hands. But Kara holds her tightly and sways them back and forth, lips pressed just above Cat’s ear. There are soft words, alien, but so soothing, whispered against Cat’s hair, and she lets them guide her through the storm, allows her heart to slowly return to a steady rhythm and towards the warmth that is Kara. Kara, who is Supergirl. Kara, who is _alive_.

After a few more minutes Cat has calmed down enough to open her eyes. Her tears sparkle like a kaleidoscope of city lights, and Cat blinks them away and turns to rest her head against Kara’s jaw, earning her a tender press of lips to her forehead.

“Are you okay?” Kara asks, her grip still firm around Cat’s shoulders.

Cat can only nod as she slowly inhales through her nose and folds her arms so that she can press her hands between them against Kara’s breastbone. She feels cold and embarrassed and for the first time in a long while, she has no idea what to say. Mostly, though, she is exhausted. And Kara feels amazing against her and Cat is not yet ready to let go.

When she shivers once more--this time purely due to the chilly evening breeze--there is a flurry of movement and then something thick and warm is draped around her back. Cat sees the red edges as she glances down to where the cape billows softly around her ankles and she briefly thinks what a shame it is that Kara decides _now_ to come clean about her super identity when Cat has been planning a speech for this very moment for months.

But there are no words, no excuses, no apologies, only Kara’s warm embrace and... an _understanding_. They are done pretending. No more secrets, no more lies. They have moved way past that.

Cat curls herself closer against Kara, wishing she could stay like this forever, but it is late and she knows she has to go and get home to her son if she wants to be on time to say good night.

“Would you like me to fly you home?”

Cat thinks that it will take some time to get used to Kara speaking so freely of her powers, but then she realises the implications of such an offer and a sudden flush spreads across her cheeks. She is sure Kara can hear her thundering heartbeat.

“I promise, I won’t let you fall.” There is guilt in those words, but Cat is too preoccupied by the sudden rush of positive excitement that surges through her to assure Kara she has been forgiven weeks ago.

“Yes, please,” is all she manages to say, her voice cracking.

Before Cat has time to worry about whether it is too soon after everything she has been through, or the fact that she has not finished her work yet for the day, Kara hooks one arm under her knees and gently scoops her up. Cat slides her arms around Kara’s neck and holds on tight, and they rise into the night as if weightless.

With one last glance at CatCo and the balcony that has seen so much brooding, so much anxiety, and, lately, so much growth in the relationship between her and the women who holds her so carefully now as they glide above the city, Cat leaves her burdens, leaves the terrors that have plagued her for so long behind.

She tilts her head up to find Kara looking down at her, eyes dark and filled with all that affection Cat now feels no longer afraid to claim.

“You will be alright,” Kara says, and her soft, encouraging smile makes Cat’s heart flutter.

“Of course I will,” Cat replies, as if there was never any doubt. Pressing her face against Kara’s warm neck she adds, suddenly bashful and slightly giddy, “because... I’m with you.”

 


End file.
